


hell or high water

by pseudosynth



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, M/M, Top Kitagawa Yusuke, way too long for a porn piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudosynth/pseuds/pseudosynth
Summary: Being around two alphas in a bathhouse, on a rainy day, at night. That's the gist of it.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist, one-sided akechi/akira
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	hell or high water

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first persona fic and i wrote in three hours. so erm not perfect but i wanted to post it. also it's been almost three years since i was in a bathhouse so i barely remember how they work and if i got something wrong plzzzz tell. but enjoy!
> 
> also ps this takes place while they're infiltrating sae's palace so like november

Tuesday nights were slow at Leblanc. Given, most days of the week were slow--a back-alley location didn't provide for much exposure. Most of the customers were loyal locals, like the elderly couple that lived in the apartment block next door and drank one coffee over the span of four hours, or Takemi who would drink eight cups over an hour and leave just as calm and unshaken as she came. And even said customers stuck to the daytime hours, glancing at their watches just before the sun began to set and trickling back to their homes. 

Thus, after around six o'clock in the evening, Akira was most often alone.

Sojiro trusted him more with closing the cafe as time passed, and eventually his ten-PM departures decayed to eight, then seven, then eventually he just began to follow his final customers as they filed out the front door. 

It was 6:32, and it was raining gently outside. The past thirty minutes had been dedicated to scrubbing the curry pot, which had been left sitting dirty and empty on the stove since Akira made breakfast before leaving for school, which eventually petered out into just letting it soak in the sink. He admitted his defeat after both arms began to protest. Morgana sat on the counter, curled up on a heating pad. He watched Akira with ever-wide eyes, a permanent near-smile on his feline face as the tip of his tail swished back and forth in a friendly wave.

"You done yet? It's kinda steamy in here from all that hot water. There's a bathhouse just across the street, don't you know!" Morgana quipped as Akira turned towards him, untying his apron and draping it over the counter. Akira looked at him, unamused and pulling his glasses off to wipe them with the hem of his shirt.

"Yeah. I know," he murmured, pausing for only a second before heading to the door and flipping the sign to CLOSED. While standing at the door, he looked straight across at the door to the bathhouse. It was rainy and cold, and for sure that elderly man that turned the water to surface-of-the-sun temperatures was inside, waiting to prey on innocent teenagers looking for a calming bath (such as himself). 

Behind him, he heard Morgana shuffle, then a pattering of paws across the tile, and when Morgana spoke up again he was noticeably louder. "Hey, it's super gross and rainy outside. Maybe you could invite someone to the bathhouse. Since you're done early." Akira turned on his heel, twisting his fringe between his pointer finger and his thumb in thought. Morgana slow-blinked at him, cocking his head. "Didn't Akechi text you telling you he was in Kichijoji tonight? Oh, Yusuke's in Shibuya! Not like he has any money to go out and do anything else. Hey, if you paid his cover fee for the bathhouse he'd  _ totally  _ show up."

Akira grunted softly, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one side. Of course the two potential companions he suggested would be the alphas. He'd been to the bathhouse with both of them on multiple occasions in the past, both alone and in a group with the other boys, but he'd never gone out of his way to invite someone. Akechi had a disconcerting tendency to cross Akira's personal boundaries in a way he was allergic to protesting, reaching across to tuck his hair behind his ear when especially rowdy cowlicks popped up, pulling his glasses off his face to clean them in the middle of Central Street, placing a hand firmly between his shoulder blades to usher him through Shibuya Crossing without losing him. Akira always brushed it off, supposing it was the old alpha instinct to semi-court any unbonded omegas around, protecting them and caring for them. He found it entertaining that even the great Detective Prince could find himself weak to ages-old biology.

Yusuke, however…

Yusuke was respectful and quiet, awkward even, to the point where Akira had assumed he was a beta or maybe even an omega until meeting his scent full-force on the nights he crashed at Leblanc. He smelled savory, almost spicy, like cinnamon and frankincense. On his suppressant, Akira was never moved by the scents of others, even when he could pick up on them. But those nights Yusuke slept on his couch, he laid awake into the night, sweat on his brow, the weight of Morgana on his chest newly uncomfortable. Eventually, he told Yusuke to warn him of any future stays at least a day in advance. He hadn't stayed since. He hadn't really had the "omega conversation" with any of his teammates, and it was instead quietly understood that the leader of the gang composed nearly entirely of misfit alphas and dominant betas was a medicated omega. He thanked God his parents still paid for his suppressants even from across the country.

When he tore himself from his thoughts, Morgana looked a bit irritated, tail lashing back and forth as he seemed to wait for an answer. Akira thought it funny that he had yet to understand his leader was not one to think out loud. 

"I'll invite them both," he decided on a whim, mostly to sate Morgana, whose tail stopped moving as his ears perked back up. "Don't get excited. Either could say no." The cat huffed and jumped onto a barstool to make his way down to the floor. 

"I already told you, Yusuke definitely won't. And you know when Akechi reaches out he means it. He wants to see you," Morgana meowed as he made his way alone to the stairs, stopping at the landing to turn back. "And I'm not excited. I'm going to watch some TV and go to bed. You have fun!"

With that, the cat bounded up the stairs and was gone. Akira was too tired to chase after him and ask how he was going to turn the TV on, let alone pop a VCR in to watch, so he pulled out his phone and looked at his most recent conversations.

**Akechi Goro | 6:01 PM**

_ I'm in Kichijoji until 9. Please let me know if you want to spend some time together. Drinks are on me. _

**Kitagawa Yusuke | 5:59 PM**

_ Good evening, Akira. I wanted to let you know that I am available if you would like to peoplewatch or  _ _ discuss the Palace. I'm in Shibuya, in the underground walkway.  _

Morgana wasn't just picking and choosing--they were really the only two who seemed to be available. It made sense. Ryuji and Ann were at Destinyland for the night, and Haru and Makoto were in a study group. Akira added both of their contacts into a conversation, supposing it couldn't be bad to get closer to them and get a nice bath out of it. 

**Kurusu Akira | 6:46 PM**

_ Hey, wanted to see if you guys wanted to come to the bathhouse in Yongen. No pressure. _

After hitting send, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and moved to sit at one of the closest barstools to the front door. Akira fully expected to wait on responses for a bit and pulled a random tattered book from the mini-bookshelf by the phone--when two staccato dings rang loud from his pocket, shattering the silence. In his shock, he jumped and dropped the book pages-down on the floor. "Oops," he groaned quietly, neglecting the miniature disaster to check the offending cellphone.

It was Akechi. And Yusuke. At the same time.

**Akechi Goro | 6:47 PM**

_ Of course. I'll be there in 30 minutes.  _

**Kitagawa Yusuke | 6:47 PM**

_ You have the best ideas. That sounds refreshing. I am on my way. _

He blinked down at his phone incredulously. That was stupid fast. Yusuke kept his phone on silent, and Akechi's phone was constantly clogged with messages from various sources. Just what were they both doing? Were they… waiting on him to respond? Since they sent their initial messages? He supposed it was only about an hour ago. But regardless…

He picked the book back up and proceeded to read the same sentence over and over again until the doorbell tinkled.

-

Yusuke and Akechi, miraculously, arrived within 30 seconds of one another, with Yusuke understandably appearing first considering his proximity being in Shibuya. Akechi filed in not long after, soon enough that Yusuke had not even moved from the doorway yet, and the detective politely waited for him to move forward with a soft smile on his face. Akira was greeted exceptionally kindly by both, and he watched from his seat at the barstool as the two taller alphas stood next to one another. He noticed with a furrowed brow that Yusuke seemed stiff, hands balled at his sides. But upon noticing Akira's gaze focused downwards, he simply questioned if anything was wrong. Akira shook his head.

When Akira told the boys he would pay for their baths, Akechi denied, and insisted on paying himself. Akira watched Yusuke's balled fists flex subtly, and his jaw set itself.

The bathhouse was nearly empty, and Akira was shocked to see the old man he was used to seeing was absent. The only soul he saw was in the locker room putting their dry clothes back on, and they avoided his gaze and moved quickly out of the building when they were done. It was only then that it dawned on him how it must look for an obvious omega to show up at a bathhouse at night with two attractive alpha men, but he pushed past the thought. This was nothing like that. 

Akechi and Yusuke were deadly quiet, and it was becoming more apparent as time passed that they actually hadn't talked directly to one another at all thus far. They chose lockers far apart, one on either side of Akira, and the omega found himself able to watch both of them out of his periphery. Akechi had left his peacoat at the cafe, leaving him to get to work on his tie first, moving unnervingly quickly but with precision. Yusuke was just in his blue button-down and jeans, and he made quick work of the shirt, baring his nude upper body to the steamy air of the locker room. Something made Akira's bloodrush audible even to himself, and suddenly he felt his heart climbing to the roof of his mouth. 

By some bizarre feat, he realized with no small surprise that he had made no moves to undress yet, his hand gripping the door of his locker so tight that his knuckles were turning white. It was easy to ignore the strain in his hand when his knees were buckling only enough for him alone to notice, legs shaking.  _ What the hell? _

Akechi and Yusuke were both working on getting their pants and briefs off by the time Akira began pulling his longsleeve over his head, and it then became a race to escape the notice of the men on either side of him. He barely made it to the finish line he himself designated, Akechi and Yusuke only having to wait a fraction of a minute as he pulled his briefs over his ankles and hurriedly stuffed his clothes into the locker.

Some minute voice in his head was screaming at him to face forward. The larger voice was questioning  _ why, why? It's just Yusuke and Akechi _ , but this tiny voice protested--

_ Holy shit, it's Yusuke and Akechi. _

He'd seen them naked before. Hell, he'd seen them naked before  _ in this very bathhouse, _ but when his gaze betrayed him and he looked up at Yusuke, he just smiled gently down at his leader, arms crossed against his chest. "Are you two ready? It seems we came at the perfect…" His smile fell, just a bit. Sudden worry gripped Akira as he watched Yusuke's nose twitch. Did he…

Yusuke uncrossed his arms, brow furrowing. "Are you alright, Akira? You…"

Akira's lip twitched, just a little, and behind him he could hear Akechi close the door to his locker. He felt somehow as if thorns were pricking the back of his head, some entity pulling his hairs out one by one just to pester, but when he turned around, it was just the detective prince offering him up a ginger, inoffensive smile. "I think he's fine, Kitagawa-kun," Akechi lilted, hand on one hip. Akira lauded himself quietly for his ability thus far to not look down at the… equipment of the men in his company. But he was no sturdier than before. How and why was Akechi vouching for him so surely?

Yusuke, in the corner of Akira's eye, simply cast his gaze towards his feet with a thoughtful hand on his chin, humming. He looked… worried?

"I'm alright. I think the steam must be making you lightheaded," Akira offered weakly, meeting Yusuke's gaze. Even that tiny act unsteadied him on his feet, but he resisted the urge to sway, surging forward and past Akechi instead to head to the bath. To his relief and somewhat astonishment, the two pairs of footsteps fell into step behind him without hesitation.

The walk to the bath felt as if it took years. When any other time he would see the security of his teammates behind him as nothing but support, protection, the promise of safety, at the moment he felt like prey. And something told him that what was on his heels was sharp-toothed and relentless. But he kept walking on those unsteady feet, passing it all off on the steam, on the rain, on the exhaustion from the day at the cafe. He likely wouldn't even need to take his sleeping pills before settling into bed tonight. With determined reverence he repeatedly assured himself that once he sunk into the warm heat of the bath, all would be forgotten. He could have comfortable conversations with his companions, discuss the next steps in the Casino, maybe make plans for lunch in the coming week. 

Said companions were quiet as stones as Akira melted hurriedly into the bathwater, and he found he couldn't help but let a pleased sigh escape. Regrettably, he felt it turning into something much louder and almost more primal, and his eyes shot open in embarrassment. The taller of the two alphas sat frozen at the edge of the bath, staring at him with wide, owl-like eyes and a criminal blush on his cheeks. 

Akechi, who had long settled himself (noiselessly) into the water, piped up. "Ah, this is wonderful. Kitagawa-kun, please come in, the water's fine. Don't worry about it being too hot," he warmly offered with a good-humored chuckle or two punctuating his phrases. 

Akira was in an entirely different debacle, and he had the feeling Yusuke was, too. 

That was when it all came crashing down.

He felt covered under Yusuke's wide gaze, Akechi a couple feet to his right and Yusuke much closer on his left. The leader was glad he wasn't standing, as he was suddenly sure he would be incapable of it at the moment, and his stomach churned, that bloodrush coming back in full force right past his ears and across his cheeks. The artist stayed frozen mid-entrance into the water, his mouth only very slightly agape, free hand flexing into a fist once again. For a split second, they were the only two in the bath, in the world.

All Akira could do was sink deeper into the water. His ass twitched and he tried desperately to tell himself that there was no way slick was coming out. Yusuke still had not gotten in. Quickly, Akira darted his gaze to Akechi, and let out a shaky sigh of relief when he saw that the detective prince was leaned languidly backwards with his eyes closed. 

In other words, not watching.

Akira turned back to Yusuke, mouth open in a silent explanation, and his undoing only unfurled itself further as his treacherous gaze moved downwards.

Yusuke was hard.

And  _ big. _

He couldn't even tear his eyes away. The silence of the room was thicker than the steam, and he shifted uncomfortably under the water, like no position he sat in could keep him sated. As he thrashed and tried to keep himself from disturbing the water too much, the artist finally slid in, embarrassingly close to Akira's burning body. They were both situated sitting on the tile bench within half a foot of one another, avoiding making eye contact, and Akira elected to look over at Akechi.

Akechi, with his head tipped back, arms propped back behind himself on the edges of the pool, looked utterly unbothered--blissful, even. The alpha was breathing slowly through his nose, nostrils flexing and twitching like he was smelling something good. Not something tasty, not something necessarily  _ irresistible-- _ but something aromatic.

And then it hit him. He must have smelled like a honeysuckle bush right then. If whatever was going on was really going on, if the pills failed, if they never worked in the first place, he currently was holding a big neon sign over his head right now that advertised an unbonded, unfucked omega. 

So that's why Yusuke was hard, for sure.

Speaking of Yusuke--Akira turned back to face him, and gasped. The dark-haired alpha's neck was arched in his direction, hovering close to him with wide eyes, as if he had caught him indulging in something sinful. The silence was shattered with a stutter as Yusuke was once again frozen in place. "A-Akira… -kun… um."

They were nearly nose-to-nose, and some stupid godforesaken entity pulled Akira closer, closer, then closer enough to press his side against Yusuke's. There was definitely slick coming out of his ass now, and he felt guilty knowing it was tainting the bathwater, desperately keeping his mouth pressed into a straight line as he stared at Yusuke.

"Akira-kun." Both the artist and his leader jumped and whipped their gazes to Akechi as he spoke up, finding with a great deal of dread that he had opened his eyes and tilted his head forward, lips pursed in a polite expression. "You know, if you were in heat, you should have told one of us."

This is it. This is where the leader of the Phantom Thieves would die.

"Uh, Akechi--" he frantically turned to fully face the detective, mourning the loss of Yusuke's warm press against his side as he wove his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Akechi, I'm--I'm not? Or, shouldn't be, I… take suppressants, um, do you smell… me?" He damned his deep voice for not being louder. That heart rate of his sped faster and finally reached behind his eyes, and he felt like he was nearly dying from altitude sickness. 

Akechi's smile fell off and he nodded serenely, crossing both his legs and his arms in a languid movement. "But of course. And I'm sure Kitagawa-san here smells it as well." Akechi casted his gaze behind Akira with a gentle jab of his chin, and when he turned around, Yusuke was once again in his offending position from earlier, this time very obviously breathing in Akira's scent with his eyes closed.

He didn't even react to the immediate attention on him, not so much as opening his eyes. "I'm… sorry, Akira-kun, but… you smell wonderful. Please tell me if I should move away." He moved back, ever so slightly and likely just out of an air of courtesy, and Akira could do no more than sigh shakily. His composure was deteriorating, and much quicker than he could manage.

He swore he heard something akin to a growl from Akechi's direction, but when he whipped his head around out of fear, he only saw the smiling prince. Two alphas, on either side of him. One inching closer to him, to his body, to his  _ neck  _ by the second, the other rather obviously concealing a competitive instinct that was breaking him. This situation was getting more dangerous by the moment as his legs shook harder, his body ached to writhe in the water, screamed in a red-hot and painful language to be allowed closer access to the alpha enjoying his scent-- _ he wants you, dammit, loves your smell, give him what he wants, be grateful that he wants you-- _

"I think it's time I leave," Akechi offered, and his voice sounded forced in some way, volume knob turned up uncomfortably loud as if to cover up some underlying crack in his facade. He didn't sound angry in the slightest, but Akira cursed himself as he whimpered, cowering in fear as the Alpha rose to his full height.  _ Oh,  _ Akira's brain realized in stupid shock,  _ he's hard too. _

Some sympathy crossed said alpha's face as Akira whimpered, and the omega swore he saw Akechi's arm that was nearest to him twitch with the intention to move, to reach out--but another growl, deep, rumbling, and loud, sounded behind him and he didn't need to look to know it was Yusuke. The alpha had all but claimed Akira as his at this point with his close proximity, and another, handsome alpha reaching to comfort his omega was not going to be welcomed. Akechi just hummed in acknowledgement, pausing only a second before tearing his gaze away and stepping out of the bath.

"I will text you tomorrow, Akira," he said, not casting so much as a glance over his shoulder as he crossed the tile floors. "I still do not mind covering the two of you. I will let the staff know not to let anyone in." Akira watched Akechi pause at the door that led to the locker room, struggling to ignore Yusuke nuzzling the side of his head ever so softly, watching in awe with his lips still pressed tight together. Akechi didn't move, for a split second. "They will listen to Goro Akechi. Goodnight."

With that, and the silent thump of the locker room door falling shut, he was gone.

It was just Akira, and the scent of cinnamon behind him leaning into the crook of his neck.

"Ah… Akira, I… you smell fantastic. You smell just as beautiful as you look, you're a work of art, a ray of hope, just like you always have been," Yusuke rumbled into Akira's ear, pressing himself against his back. The frequency of his voice struck the omega to his core, and he deflated against the alpha, lips finally parting in a lecherous gasp. His hand reached up and behind himself to wrap long fingers around the back of Yusuke's neck, beckoning him into the nape of his throat where his swollen scent gland was begging for attention. The lucid part of him was struggling to make up words, but all he found himself uttering were weak whimpers and breathy, barely-there grunts. 

"You don't need to talk. Or… at least tell me this is okay," Yusuke whispered into his ear, and Akira writhed in his grasp as the alpha wrapped an arm across his front. His pointed nose was snuffling at the swollen scent gland, but he had yet to apply his mouth to it like Akira wanted, wanted to feel his  _ teeth  _ and  _ tongue _ on it--

"Yes," he gasped out desperately, the act of speaking alone tailspinning him into more blinding want and pain. "I-I'm--please."

Yusuke hummed in acknowledgement behind him, but he could hear the deep, sturdy voice shake, and it was the last thing he remembered before teeth closed gingerly around his scent gland. Akira both arched into and away from Yusuke's grip out of sheer overstimulation, the long-awaited satisfaction of receiving just the sensation he craved causing his nerves to shut down and immediately restart again in a fraction of a second. 

"Ah! Yu-Yusuke. Yu--" Another cry tore from his lips, strained and choked by embarrassment as Yusuke's large hand moved downwards to grasp his weeping cock. It took that bright burst of stimulation for him to notice the hard length pressing against the dip just above his ass, almost unnoticeable in the blistering heat of the water mingling with his own temperature.  _ God _ , he wanted it inside of him so bad. 

Yusuke panted in his ear, and it became obvious just how much restraint the alpha must have been practicing at the moment. Akira's hand shook on the back of his neck and he resisted the urge to cup his face, cooing to him and praising him for his ability to hold back, electing instead to simply grind his ass back against his hard cock and growing knot to provide some good sensation. Hearing the artist grunt deeply as if resisting something he had wanted his entire life, feeling as if he was giving his alpha what he wanted, being a  _ good omega _ and making his alpha happy--Akira was biting his lip so hard it bled, fighting biology to keep lucid for at least a minute more just to realize the potential ramifications of this. Did Yusuke really want him? If they ended up together, would it disrupt the team? Would they never speak again after this? Akira recalled Yusuke's remark only moments earlier about him being beautiful to him, a ray of hope… hope.

He could only hope.

He gave in and moved his shaky, treacherous hand to Yusuke's cheek, stroking it with his thumb, twisting his head around to kiss the alpha's other cheek and struggling to speak. "You're so good… Yusuke." A breath. A twitch of the alpha's hips. A grunt in response to the call of his name. "I would give anything for you to want me," Akira whispered, his voice failing him at the end of his statement and fading into a simper as Yusuke's hand started stroking his twitching cock. The artist's lips seized his in a sudden movement, moving his warm mouth against Akira's at the same pace as his hand on his dick, and the omega tried fruitlessly to push closer to Yusuke, back arching desperately. 

He felt Yusuke's twitching hips occasionally make miniature thrusts against the small of his back, his knot cresting just barely between his cheeks with every movement. It was like the more time passed, the more he needed it, the more he needed to be filled, to be made into his alpha's perfect, warm little omega. The more time passed, the more he was forgetting the world around them. He would only be completely lucid for so much longer, and in a split-second decision, he decided to make good use of that.

He pulled away from Yusuke, eliciting a pathetic whine from the alpha, and the noise beckoned him to fling himself back onto the artist, petting and knotting his hands in his hair-- _ perfect alpha, he's perfect, make him happy, have his-- _

Akira forced himself to keep moving, crossing the bath and holding Yusuke's gaze with half-lidded determination. He reached the opposite wall of the bath, stunning himself with his lack of inhibitions as he hoisted himself onto the edge, pulling his legs out of the water and spreading them as wide as they could go. Akechi did say he would get them time alone, after all. 

Yusuke watched the display with a wide-eyed gape and shock-parted lips for a split second before his expression switched into something Akira had only seen play across his face in art exhibits or in his studio--fixing an object of his aesthetic affections under his gaze with a furrowed brow, steeled eyes trained with utter determination on what he wanted. On what he would  _ get.  _ His mouth snapped shut with the ferocity of a spring trap and Akira watched his jaw set and flex with the loss of his greater control as he stood and waded through the water towards the omega. The closer he got, the harder it became to hold eye contact, the instinct to submit pushing Akira deeper and deeper into his own mind. It was in a split instant that his wide hands were situated firmly on the backs of Akira's thighs, sliding all over them, sliding up and around to settle on either side of his waist, nearly encircling it. He realized he was whimpering without even being aware of it, gaze cast down to where Yusuke's cock stood proud and hard right against his own. It was (obviously) much bigger, knot just beginning to swell at the base, and Akira was brave enough to lock his ankles behind the artist's back.

This was the last moment he spent thinking about how this was  _ Yusuke _ . The awkward artist who didn't understand social cues, who slept on his sofa fully clothed with no blankets or pillows, who ate more than his body weight in junk food every day and still stayed the lankiest in the group. More importantly, he was the mild-mannered boy who drew Akira's studying face in his sketchbooks at the diner in Central Street as it rained, who hummed along with his eyes closed and foot tapping to the music at the jazz club in Kichijoji, who would give his last yen if it meant he could make his teammates happy. 

Akira finally forced himself to look up and meet Yusuke's eyes, and when he did, he saw the Yusuke he knew well, determined and dead-set on pleasing the people he loved.

He would let him do just that.

"Yusuke," he whimpered, knowing full well he wasn't entirely himself but determined regardless to get what he wanted. "Please, fuck me. F-fill me up, with that huge cock--please, alpha…" He reached down, pushing Yusuke just far back enough so he could watch as he spread his slick-soaked hole open.

Akira swore he could see the snap in Yusuke's eyes, not unlike when they were in battle and he was on the cusp of delivering a staggering attack to the enemy, and in the next blinding instant he was stuffed full, the blunt head of Yusuke's cock nudging at his prostate deep inside of him.

"Ah! Oh!  _ Fuck! _ " He cursed desperately, throwing his head back so hard and arching his back so severely that he nearly fell off the edge of the bath, but one of Yusuke's strong arms quickly reached behind him and curled around his back to support him. A deep-seated instinct of his purred at the care from his doting alpha, urging him to pick his head back up, despite his panting and frantic efforts to adjust to the heat inside of him. "Oh--you're… you're in my  _ guts, _ oh,  _ Yusuke _ …" He was incredulous with the pleasure he was experiencing, legs twitching and weak around Yusuke's back and within moments he was unable to support himself that way either, legs falling limp against the side of the bath.

Finally directing his attention to his alpha, he noticed with a pang of pleasure that Yusuke was panting and growling lowly under his breath, the omega still fixed unwavering under his gaze. The ferocity of an alpha in rut was beginning to shine through, but it didn't scare Akira in the slightest. He began to purr deep in his throat, still panting, pushing his hips starkly against Yusuke's. "Please, alpha, move, knot me… fuck me up, do whatever… you want…"

Yusuke didn't even wait for Akira to finish his sentence before he began animalistically thrusting into him, pistoning in and out at a punishing pace and moving as deep within the omega as he could. Said omega was a mess of tears and whimpers, crying out desperately and knotting one fist in Yusuke's hair, trying to focus on the texture of it, the softness, the thickness of the strands--but nothing could pull him away from the searing pleasure in the lower half of his body. His magnetism was realigning itself to prepare for an alpha's knot, all of his nerves burning themselves up and rebuilding themselves back up again just to experience the same primal pleasure, lifetime after lifetime. 

The artist was above him, face shoved against his scent gland as he panted and grunted with the effort he was exerting. But he was strong, well-built from the number of battles they had endured (and won) in the Metaverse, and Akira could feel it in the well-toned chest pressed hard against his own, the strongly-built arm supporting his body at the moment, and the angular hips claiming him thrust after thrust. Another layer of the effort Yusuke was exerting was found in the graze of his teeth against Akira's scent gland, and Akira knew even in his haze and through the slapping of wet skin that he was struggling against the urge to bite him. To draw blood. To  _ bond  _ him. The first movement of Yusuke's canines across his scent gland ripped a nearly-painful orgasm from Akira, forcing him to pause Yusuke in his actions as he clenched helplessly around his dick and whimpered and cried. The alpha moved from his neck and peppered his face with kisses, licking his cheek in little strokes and cleaning up the tears. "More, more, I'm not done," Akira gasped, pulling at Yusuke's hair in little bursts of staccato tugs to make sure he didn't pull away, didn't even think about it. He felt the blue-haired alpha pull back from his neck with a grunt and nod down at him, and they made nose-to-nose eye contact as Yusuke began thrusting again.

He could feel himself lubricating around Yusuke an obscene amount, but it only made the slide easier as the artist's thrusts grew deeper and harder. The knot at the base of his cock was swelling slowly but surely inside of Akira, and it was getting more difficult for him to force the entirety of his dick in on every thrust. Akira's weeping and flushed-red dick bounced on his stomach as they moved, and he swore he was exiting consciousness entirely, the heat of the bath and the steam surrounding him thicker than the blood pounding in his ears. Yusuke was back to his scent gland, mouthing at it and sucking at it like it was candy, his desperate whimpers and pants loud in his ear. Akira knew, even though he couldn't hear himself in his haze, that he was even louder, crying out unintelligible strings of curses and "alpha"s and "Yusuke, please". The pleasure was so much that he almost couldn't wait for Yusuke to fill him up, to come.

The knot was swelled to a significant size, but not its full width yet, and as Yusuke desperately slammed it against Akira's abused and wet hole it finally slipped in on the third thrust. Akira  _ screamed  _ as it got in and stretched him further, and his second orgasm snuck up on him with a knife, digging his nerves out from under his skin and shaking them like beads on a chain. He wasn't even aware of what he said as he came, or what noises he made--all he noticed was the knot stuffed inside of him, fully swollen as Yusuke made little desperate thrusts against him.

Akira sat up once he came back to reality after his final orgasm, placing one hand on either side of Yusuke's face and pulling his head to face him. "Yusuke," he panted desperately, "You can do it, please, please come inside me… please… alpha, breed me, knock me up, I need it." Yusuke responded with a shake of his head and a desperate whine, as if saying it was too much, frantically trying to pull his knot out of Akira and push it back in to get the last bit of stimulation he needed to fill him to the brim. Akira petted his face, kissing his nose, all over his face, purring deep in his throat and trying to convince him to finally finish, cooing praises at him. "You're so good, you're so big and thick inside of me--Yusuke, please, I need it, you need to do it for me, I--" he observed Yusuke biting through his own lip, putting his fingers between the artist's lips to keep it from happening again, and -- 

"Bond me," he gasped desperately, yanking Yusuke's head to his neck to distract the artist's devilish attention from his own lips.

With that, Yusuke stuttered in his rhythm, biting down hard on the scent gland offered to him, and finally, finally, his knot slipped out and popped back in in one sinful move that brought him over the edge and drove Akira through a third, brain-shattering orgasm.

The last thing Akira picked up on before everything went black was the feeling of Yusuke's come seeping inside of him in long bursts. 

And then he was gone.

-

The first thing he noticed when he woke was the pain.

Akira woke in his own bed, blinking at the ceiling in the dark as his surroundings began to fade into his senses. First, the pain, radiating up from his ass through the rest of his body. But it was not stabbing, not a bleeding feeling, just a dull ache that was hotter than he could imagine. Second, the warmth, pressed against his side--Morgana, maybe? Third, a cool, icy sensation pressed against his forehead, melting in tendrils down his temples. What was--

"Ah--Akira…" 

Yusuke?

Akira blinked groggily, turning slightly to the side where the warmth was radiating from to see the offending source of the voice. Indeed, it was Yusuke, face tear-streaked as he held what seemed to be an icy cold rag to Akira's forehead.

The leader grunted quietly, closing his eyes with a deep breath and putting a hand gently on Yusuke's arm to coax him into moving the rag away. "Mmm… hi. Did you… cry?"

The artist looked down at his feet, blinking and sighing gently. Seems that he was guilty as charged. Akira reached up and tucked a stray strand of dark blue-black hair behind Yusuke's ear, looking at him with an expression of wordless concern, hoping his question would be conveyed without needing to say anything. He knew he'd succeeded when Yusuke shook his head and looked back up, laughing sharply.

"I made… you bleed." Akira furrowed his brow, squinting and preparing to confirm with Yusuke that he was supposed to bleed when he was marked on that scent gland, but Yusuke continued as if he knew what he was trying to say. "Down… there. When we were... done, there was a good bit of blood. I cannot believe I was so careless as to hurt you with my eagerness. I apologize, but right now I just feel as if I am a stupid animal just like every other alpha in the world." He looked back down, one hand rubbing his opposite wrist nervously. "I cannot believe… that although I consider you as a work of art, as my personal source of hope, the person that propels me forward and saved me from my darkness… I hurt you. I am sorry."

Akira sighed and sat up, shaking his head and beginning to speak softly. "I wanted that, I told you. And I was a virgin. So it's to be expected. I'm okay now, so don't cry again." The artist looked up to meet his gaze with unsure eyes, and he offered him a lopsided smile. "Plus, the only reason I passed out is because it felt so good. I asked you to knot me. And to bond me. You didn't do anything wrong. Please."

He wasn't even able to glimpse Yusuke's face before he was pulled into a tight hug, which ripped a shocked yelp from him. Yusuke let out a small exclamation at the noise and let go hurriedly, shaking his head. "S-sorry. I am just… continuously astounded by your ability to make me feel better with so few words. You are… truly the one meant for me." Akira smiled, laughing nervously with the weight of Yusuke's words.

The leader opened his mouth to speak right as Yusuke darted upwards, ran across the room, and came back with a comically large sketchbook. When he noticed Akira looking at him with a cocked head and a raised eyebrow, he closed his eyes and smiled serenely, dipping his head politely.

"Ah, my apologies. You looked simply amazing with my spend dripping out of you, and I was thinking of adapting it to my next piece."

  
  
  



End file.
